


One More For Us

by Komatsu



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, First Times, Sexual Content, inappropriate use of Asterisk powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 02:28:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13308483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Komatsu/pseuds/Komatsu
Summary: Jackal is a Thief, operating in the darkness and in the shadows, never getting close to anyone. But something about Praline A La Mode drives him to her concerts day in and day out. One day, he gets that lucky break! A winning raffle ticket, a date, and free dinner and an evening to remember.





	One More For Us

**Author's Note:**

> Note that all characters are assumed to be 18 and over.

To the Jackal, Praline's music was kind of weird sometimes, but catchy. He found himself humming her tunes at the oddest of times, like when he was out at the oasis, keeping an eye out for travelers, or when he was rummaging through the horde of treasure in the Thieves Den. He tried to only do this when he was alone, because he didn't need anyone to ask him questions, but the younger kids had picked up her songs from somewhere. At least they had good taste. Sometimes the whole group of them would sing along to a new tune, which was always fun. At least it kept spirits up in the agonizing dryness of the desert. 

Eventually, he started going to her concerts - To support a fellow member of the Eternian forces, of course. Even though he could usually only attend the concerts in Florem, every now and then he managed to make it to see one in Florem or Al Khampis - if he was already planned to to be in the area. He still had responsibilities and everything, but there wasn't any harm in listening to some pop music now and then, right?

This time around he stayed a day extra on his Florem trip so that he could watch Praline perform in her hometown. The gang would understand, as long as he brought them back some the maple sugar candy that they liked so much. 

Still, even if he liked her music, he still had his pride. Instead of standing deep in the throngs of admiring fans, he'd restricted himself to the shadows, managing to sneak close enough to get the _best_  view of the stage. Though… it was almost time for the show to start. Frowning, he watched the MC approach the edge of the stage.

"Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we have a special prize for you!" announced the man, decked head to toe in Praline merchandise. Jackal scoffed; that was all from last season, the guy obviously wasn't a real fan if he didn't didn't have any of the really new stuff. Amateur. Ah well. He listened intently, leaning in closer. 

"Tonight, we will be raffling off tickets for a date with Miss Praline herself!" the MC started, and he was immediately drowned out by scream of glee from men and women alike. Jackal perked up, interested, and not at all bothered by the noise, though the MC had to shout to be heard over it as he explained the rules.

Alright! Tickets to go on a date with Praline? It'd been awhile since he'd seen her in person, not since that fight in Old Man Tick Tock's palace. He'd escorted her back to the shore so that she could take a boat to Grandship, and that had been the last they'd spoken.

Already, people were lining up to buy tickets, emptying out their pockets for the chance to be with Praline for a night. Jackal slunk back into the shadows, sidling along the edge of the stage to where rolls of tickets were laying in wait to be used. So what if he didn't pay for a ticket? He could write his name, and that would be good enough. Swiping a roll for himself, he also borrowed a pen.

The show started soon after. He spent most of the evening with one ear on the stage as he wrote his name on each and every ticket, placing them in a bag as he finished. The lottery would be pulled at the end of her last number, so he had time to put his tickets in the container - they'd set it aside, just out of sight, so as to not distract the audience members from the performance in lights.

It took only a minor distraction - some nicely placed water that caused a crash and a little bit of a scuffle between some concertgoers - and he dumped his entire bag into the lottery container just as the final song was starting. Done and done. Now all he had to do was wait and see. This didn't count as cheating, right? He'd only put in some tickets with his name on it. It wasn't like he'd taken any out! This just put him on a level playing field as everyone else.

Praline had finished up her last song and was looking lovely, a health glow on her cheeks from the lights and the exertion of prancing around stage. Jackal was so caught up in watching her that he almost didn't catch the movement out of the corner of his eye - what kind of thief was he - of the MC pushing the lottery container up to the center of the stage.

Praline grasped the handle, giggling.

"Everyone, thank you for visiting me tonight!" she called into the microphone in her other hand, and the crowd roared in response. "I thank you all so much! You're my biggest fans!"

She started to spin the wheel, tickets flying around it, so full that there wasn't much room for motion. "Rest assured that all proceeds from tonight's lottery will go toward the Florem Restoration Fund! As a native to Florem, I love your support and I love you! Now, everyone! Are! You! Ready!"

Jackal winced as the screaming of the crowd reached absurd levels, even for him, but at Praline's raised hand, they all went silent. Concert goers were clutching their tickets to their chests, waiting anxiously as she rummaged around in the drum.

"And the winner is...." she announced, then trailed off, cocking her head. There was a moment of silence as she attempted to read the winner. "Jackson? Jason? I-- I can't read this." She handed the ticket over to the MC who puzzled over it for a moment.

"It's ticket 18789," the man finally said, stifling a cough as he spoke into the microphone he held. "Ticket 18789, Mr. Jackie! We'll see you backstage within the hour."

A chorus of disappointed groans fell over the crowd, along with chatter as others began to look over their numbers to double check the number. Jackal did the same, rummaging through the thousand of tickets he still held onto. Surely his handwriting wasn't that bad?

Or maybe it was - after a few minutes of rummaging he found the other part of ticket 18789, his heart leaping into his throat. He'd won!

"It's Jackal," he announced later to the guard at Praline's door, and held out the ticket as proof. "My name is Jackal."

The MC standing beside the guard took the ticket, looking over it suspiciously before he looked over the thief, just as suspiciously. "Your handwriting needs work," the man sniffed. "And how many tickets did you buy, Jackal?"

"I dunno," he said, shrugging. "I just blew most of my money on 'em…. maybe 5000 pg or so?" Lying came easy to him, especially about crimes. "Why you ask?"

"Your name appeared on quite a few tickets," the man replied, eyes narrowed. 

"Yeah, well… all in the name of a good cause, right? You got any problems?" He scowled. If they intended to count all the tickets and compare it to the cash, then that could be easily explained by some embezzlement on their side. He made a mental note to be sure to donate later on, though. Profiter wouldn't notice that money missing from his vault, and the guy kind of deserved to donate to good causes for being a jerk.

The door opened and Praline peeked her head out. "Oh!" she said, spotting Jackal standing there. "Mr. Jackal, it's you!"

"You know this man?" her MC asked, surprised.

"Of course," Praline said, nodding. "We know each other from… work."

"Yeah," Jackal chimed in, catching the look that Praline gave him when their eyes met. "From work!"

"You're the winner? That's great! Come on in, I'm just finished getting ready."

With no further argument from the MC, Jackal entered Praline's dressing room. To his relief, it was less like room and more like suite - it seemed she did so many concerts in the Florem area that it had become a semi-permanent home. He stood awkwardly in what he supposed was meant to be a living area, with couch and table, and a small kitchenette to the side. She disappeared into the other room, where he could see a bed and several standing closets before the door closed.

"Help yourself to some water," she called behind the door. 

"Don't mind if I do," Jackal said to himself, picking up the pitcher of water and pouring it into a nearby glass. That was one of the best parts of Florem. Water everywhere. Then, he waited awkwardly for Praline, sitting on the couch. He didn't even date, but he knew that women could take forever to get ready. Ah well.

He wasn't sure how long he waited, but eventually Praline entered the room. He opened his mouth to yell at her for how long she'd taken - he'd had time to get another class of water - but his protest died in his throat. It suddenly felt dry, as if he'd had no water at all.

Of course she wasn't going to be able to wear her usual outfit out to a nice dinner. Of course she would have had to take a shower and redo her hair after dancing around on stage all night. He should have known that. Still, he hadn't been expected the short kimono-like dress she wore. The bright blue ensemble came up to her mid-thighs, and the top of it was pulled down past her shoulders, revealing more creamy skin than he was used to seeing, even for Florem. He wasn't sure where to look.

"You look great," he managed to say, then cleared his throat. "Are we off, then?"

"Let's go!" Praline said, and she grabbed his arm. "I'll lead you to the restaurant. Don't worry, it's all been paid for by the proceeds."

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in such a fancy joint. Actually, he wasn't sure he'd ever been to a restaurant like this. Next to Praline, who sparkled and shone like a diamond in the middle of coal, he felt like… well, coal. At least he'd had a chance to wash his hands and face in the restroom as he and Pralined waited to be seated, but he knew his outfit was a little grungy from the traveling, and his shoes were scuffed. The people seated around them weren't shy about the glances that they cast in his direction, though Praline didn't seem to notice.

The girl was chattering on about this and that as they caught up. Jackal could barely follow along with her bright bubbly voice, finding himself nodding more often than not. 

"So how are the kids?" she asked as she started dessert. She had already exhausted all topics pertaining to the weather, the latest fashion styles, the events happening later in the week… 

He started. "The kids?"

"Your gang," she explained, as though it was natural to talk about his crew. "The little ones that followed you around when you took me to the docks, remember?"

Oh right, that had happened. They'd wanted to catch a glimpse of Praline. "Eh, they're doing okay. As good as we can be. With the new business and everything, they're putting on some weight." Weight was good. That meant they were eating.

"New business?"

Oh right, he hadn't told her it yet. "Yeah, the Prime Minister of Ancheim gave us the job of guarding the oasis. This way people can come and go as they please, and be safe from the monsters in the desert. " And they got extra cash if people wanted to hire them as guides, too. How someone could get lost on their way to a city with a giant windmill, he'd never know, but they wouldn't turn down the job.

"You're really making a name of yourself. I'm glad. I've been thinking about you a lot, you know!" she laughed, and his heart jumped because it was a different sort of laugh than the kind she gave on the stage. "Do you still work for… you know?"

Did he work still work under the Duchy of Eternia? 

"Don't you?" he asked instead.

Praline nodded, and he could see her glance around the restaurant they were in as she swirled her straw in her cup. "If they called me to come back, I would go. They've done so much for me, after all. Luckily,  Master Kamiizumi asked me to be assigned to Florem to help clean up after the Blood Rose Legion."

"Who?"

"Master Kamiizumi! The man in the green robe, remember?"

Right, Chief." Or the other Chief. Khint had once mentioned that the Swordsmaster also worn green, but Jackal had never met him. He wasn't sure he wanted to. Any guy that the Chief spoke about like  _ that  _ seemed like a guy who needed to be watched out for. "Anyway, Blood Rose Legion."

Praline frowned, which looked more like a pout on her. "They've done so many awful things here in Florem. It's really going to take a long time to clean up."

"Oh, oh yeah." He  _ had  _ heard about some of the stuff that had happened. He knew the Merchantry hadn't been all saints and angels, but it took a real bastard to poison children in not just one, but several ways. "That's why you've been doing so many concerts here and in Ancheim."

"Right! We've got to restore the city, or at least, clean up the mess they left behind. I don't mind. It's my hometown, after all."

He knew that. It was part of her public profile, along with her birthdate and measurements. "Do you want some help?" he found himself asking. "Me and the guys, we know a thing or two about cleaning up after corrupt bastards."

Praline gave him another winning smile. "Your donations are help enough."

He barely managed to hold back a grimace. Right, donations. He made another mental note to tip his wallet into one of the donation buckets that her people kept at the front of the music hall. 

She cocked her head at him. "What is it?"

"N-nothing," he replied, and swallowed back some of his water. It was nice and fruity, not dusty at all like some of the desert water. "Just… thinking about what happened back then, with all the Duchy schemes. Bunch of crazy shit." He didn't even know most of what had happened, just that all the regions had been embroiled in fighting in one way or another thanks to the Duchy. It was hard to think about. He'd been content just to cause panic in the desert and get paid. He'd had no idea that Florem or Eisenberg had been hit too.

Praline sighed. "I know! I was worried about my career, but then when I got home, my mother told me about - "

"You have a mom?" he asked, surprised.

She cocked her head at him. "Of course. Don't you?"

He ducked his head down, hiding his face deeper in his hood. "My mom and pops both ducked out years ago. Dunno where they are now."

"Oh Mr. Jackal, I'm sorry." Praline's eyebrows were furrowed, her lips downturned.

"Don't worry about it," he grunted, then forced himself to pick up his fork again. He wasn't about to let good food go to waste. Maybe if he could, he'd bring some back in a doggy bag for the rest of the crew.

They continued to make small talk as the meal progressed. 

His favorite color was green. Hers was blue.

She liked winter the best, because it made performances easier. He liked spring; not too hot, not too cold, and lots of rain in the desert. 

He hated raw carrots after losing a baby tooth on one. She didn't like fresh cream because of the way it affected her throat.

She had joined the Black Blades after a Duchy spy had seen how her singing affected her fans. He had been recruited by the Merchantry due to his skills in leading his own group of thieves.

As the night wore on, the two of them continued to chat, long after the dishes had been cleared. With her permission - her _suggestion_  - he'd ordered another entree, a large one, that he could take back to the base the crew was staying at while in Florem. It sat in its bag on the edge of the table.

"Where do you see yourself in 10 years?" she asked him, drinking her fifth glass of water.

He was on his seventh, and had taken several trips to the restrooms to relief himself because of it. What kind of question was that? Thieves didn't think that far in advance. "You know. Still fighting. Still thievin'. Still living it in up in the desert. You?"

"I'll be on a world tour by then, of course. I just hope I don't have to change my music style."

"No!" he shouted, standing up, and she startled. Other patrons in the place turned to look at him. Embarrassed, he sat back down. "I mean - there's nothing wrong with your style now."

She giggled. "Well, thank you, Mr. Jackal. I like my style too. But to be successful you have to be trendy."

He didn't like it. He liked her music as was. None of that stupid hoity toity shit that people might want a few years. "Yeah, well… you should stay true to yourself. That's why you became a singer, right?"

She nodded, her gaze distant. "Yeah, that's right. I like to mix things up now and then."

That was different. Everyone liked variety. "Whatever. Whatever you decide, you'll always have your loyal fans."

"Like you?" she teased.

He wasn't going to blush, he wasn't going to blush… his cheeks felt hot, though."Yeah, something like that."

It was getting late. Praline paid the bill for the two of them, along with a sizeable tip for the amount of time that they had spent just talking. Jackal picked up the bag containing the takeout and prepared to leave, but stopped himself.

"You walking by yourself? Alone?" he asked her, looking outside at the dark. No one had come with them and he doubted someone would come and pick her up.

"I can take of myself," she reminded him, her hands on her hips.

He scowled.  Whatever intimidating effect she was going for was lost with her soft ruffles and lace. "I ain't gonna let a lady walk home in the dark by herself. Come on, Praline. I'll get you home."

She tried to argue, mentioning to him that she had a mini mic at all times to help her sing. He'd argued right back that her abilities were all support, and it wasn't going to do a lot of good buffing up her allies if she  _ didn't have any _ . In the end, he decided to accompany her back anyway. He had some morals! And he didn't want the Chief to find out he'd let her walk home alone and scold him for it. What if  _ her _  Chief found out?

The walk was nice. Now that the sun was going down in Florem, the air was nicely cooled. A strong bleeze brew, carrying with it the chill from the various waterways in the city, and as the wind passed over his arms, he shuddered.

She noticed, her blue eyes going wide. "Poor Mr. Jackal. Are you cold?"

"N-No, I'm fine. You oughta be the one who's cold." Should he offer her his jacket? He wasn't really wearing anything underneath it, but he'd heard that's what upstanding guys did.

She giggled at him. "I'm used to the weather! But you, you're from the desert, right?"

"It gets cold at night in the desert," he reminded her. "Real cold." But it was a different type of cold than Florem was. Still, he had to put on his best face.

Then, he forgot about the cold entirely as Praline looped her arm through one of his. She was so close, and the heat of her touch traveled from his arm through his entire form. He wouldn't need his jacket anymore to keep warm, but then - he wasn't sure she would need it anyway.

They passed the rest of the way in relatively silence. Jackal didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound entirely stupid, so he kept his mouth shut as they went through the still nights of Florem. No one paid them any mind; Praline had dressed differently enough that she blended in well with the other women of the city. Anyone looking at them from afar would have assumed they were just another couple going out on a walk. The thought made him flush. Couple. Heh.

Before long, they had arrived back at the small building that was the apartment she and her group lived. It was just as well - the cool breeze that had chilled him so had begun to turn into drizzle. There were guards standing outside that nodded at him and Praline as she gestured him inside.

He went, scowling and rubbing at his damp arms as he placed his doggy bag on one of the tables. He liked rain as much as the next person, but criminey, couldn't a guy some warning to get an umbrella? That was the only bad thing about Florem. Rain storms. 

She stood at the window, looking up at the dark sky, then back to him. "You can stay until it stops raining," she offered. "It wouldn't do if you got sick from exposure. You can't heal sickness, can you?"

"Do I look like a White Mage?" he asked, sharper than he would have liked. Then he shook his head. "Sorry. Ah, no. I can't."

Praline had her hands on her hips again. "Me neither! So stay until it stops. Your kids wouldn't be very happy with me if I let you get sick." She leaned in close to him, her eyes narrowing.

She was standing awfully close. Jackal leaned back, swallowing. "Uh… you sure?"

"I'm sure," she replied. "We'll find something to do until the rain lets up, I'm sure."

Oddly enough, she had a variety of board games. Rain in Florem was common, she explained, and she and a few other girls often got together for games on the nights when the outdoor stages couldn't be used. Some of the games involved playing cards, which he was good at. 

Praline was even better.

She was  _ creaming  _ him when they finally moved on from the games to a hand of poker. He'd lost three games in a row; thankfully they had decided not to play for money. And now, she smiled at him, bluebells eyes half-lidded, her lashes fluttering as she laid out another full hand.

"How are you  _ doing  _ this?" he demanded to know, torn between being amused and being outraged. _He_ was the Thief here! He was supposed to have an extra ace up his sleeve, if he had sleeves.

"It's easy enough," she giggled. "You never look at my hands, Mr. Jackal. You're always looking at my face."

"Oh," he said. Number one rule of a Thief. Always watch the other person's hands. Always. He looked down at them now as she shuffled the cards. Her hands were slender and delicate, with only the tiniest of callouses from the fighting that she did as a Black Blade. Not like his own, that were rough and torn from his rough upbringing. He clenched his fist.

"Are you upset?" she asked, noticing.

"No," he replied. It came out sharper than he would have liked. "Nah, I'm not," he amended. "Is it done raining yet?"

Praline looked out the window. "Not yet."

Huffing, he leaned back on the couch. She giggled at him, spreading the cards out on the table, then moved around to sit next to him.

"You're better at the card tricks," she reassured him. "I could never do what you do!"

"Yeah, well... " That shouldn't have mollified him, but it did. He reached out to pick up a couple of the cards. "You gotta know some tricks on the streets. It's a… gig we run, now and then." In the middle of tourist season, they would come around and gamble with unsuspecting visitors, rigging the results so that they could get the tourist all cocky, then deliberately turn the tables on them. Even the youngest knew the basic tricks.

She hummed to herself, tapping her finger against a chin. "You should teach me some of these."

"Why?" he asked. "You're not a thief. You're a…" He trailed off.

Praline cocked her head at him. "I'm a what?"

He hated being tongue tied like this. "You're… you." How else could he describe her? Sure, there was her job and everything, but she was more than that. She was light and beautiful and lively. She belonged in the sun, and thieves operated in the shadows. It wouldn't be right for her. He wouldn't be right for her.

Suddenly, he felt a chill unrelated to the rain in the air. "I gotta go," he said.

She put her hand on his arm. "Jackal, wait." 

It took him a second to figure out what was so weird about that, but then it hit him - she hadn't called him 'Mister' for once. He gaped at her. 

Then, before he could recover, she had leaned in to kiss him. Her lips were as he always imagined they would be; soft and pouty, with just the slightest hint of lip gloss. He was so stunned he almost couldn't kiss her back like he knew he  _ should _ ; it was only when she began to lean back that he followed her, pressing into the kiss and seeking more. 

She sighed against his mouth, and the grip she had on his arm tightened. When they did part, he was aware of the flush on her cheeks. 

"... what was that?" he asked. His own cheeks felt hot. He felt hot, even in his skimpy jacket.

"I don't want you to leave and think that you're not - that this isn't anything to me," she explained. "I know what you're thinking." Closing her eyes and leaning back, she appropriated a scowl on her face.

" _'I can't be around Praline! She's too pure and innocent! I'm a Thief, and she's an idol and we're from two different worlds! I must keep my distance!_ ''" she said, her voice deep and rough in an admittedly impressive imitation of his own. Performers.

"I - I wasn't thinking that!" he lied.

She shook her head. "You're being silly, Mr. Jackal. You know, we can always use secondary Jobs."

"Yeah, well…" He didn't want to think about the logistics of that. "You'd make a good Thief," he admitted. "You'd disarm all your victims with your smile."

She giggled. "I do that already!"

Yeah, she did. Jackal grinned at her, and then the two of them were meeting again. Her lips were just as soft this second time, pliable and gentle. He tried his best to be the same, though he knew his own lips were rough and a little scarred from all the times he'd bitten them. 

"I don't want you to leave yet," she whispered to him when they parted again.

He wasn't sure he  _ could _ leave. His head was beginning to feel a little light. "Yeah," he replied, breathing out against her lips. They were so close. 

It was like being thirsty. Craving water to satiate the thirst. Kissing her again, some of that thirst was slaked, filling him with a sense of fulfillment that settled low in his belly. But then they parted, and he found his mouth was dry. She leaned in to him this next time, and he tried to wet his lips with his tongue, only to find her lips parting for it instead. 

He'd kissed people before, awkwardly and clumsily and regretfully, but never like this. His tongue slipped into her mouth, seeking to quench some of the thirst and heat that he was feeling. Instead, it had the opposite effect. Heat roared in him, a fire blazing from his lower belly all the way through his limbs.

They had to part for breath, each of them leaning back. He was feeling so warm and so dazed that it was hard for him to keep his eyes opened. They kept wanting to fall shut. He wanted to lean against her.

She seemed to notice his struggle. "Do you want to lie down in my bed?"

The implication wasn't lost to him. "Yeah," he decided. "Yeah."

Her bedroom was covered with clothes, as was the bed, but she shoved them off as he all but collapsed on the blue blanket. Or duvet. Whatever. He didn't really know the fancy term for it. But he fell on it all the same, and just barely managed to wiggle his boots off. He wasn't raised in a barn; he knew people didn't wear their shoes to bed. 

Praline crawled onto the bed beside him once her own shoes were discarded. As she leaned over him, he could see down the top of her outfit, the curves of her breasts peeking through. Damn thing was skimpy.

But when she kissed him again, he couldn't see down the top at all, and forgot all about it. His hands threaded through her long hair, holding her close as she leaned against him. The bed was softer than anything he'd ever known, and the two of them sank into it.

"My clothes'r dirty," he mumbled when they broke this new kiss. He was going to leave grime on her blanket.

"Take them off?" she suggested.

"Yeah, okay." That made sense. Still feeling like he was a daze, maybe hit by one of his own damn sand traps, he struggled with his pants. His jacket was easy, his shirt was non-existent, and the scarf untied easily. It was his pants that were the problem, and it was only with her help that he managed to shove them down his lips and legs to wear they could fall over the edge of the bed to join her mounds of clothing on the floor. His jacket and scarf and underthings joined them, leaving him bare and feeling more than a little vulnerable.

But damn this bed was soft. It was worth it.

Praline rang her fingers through his choppy hair. "It's all white. Is that your natural color?" She looked down. "Oh, so it is."

"You gotta problem with that?" he attempted to bark, but between the warmth and the slight confusion on how he'd ended up naked in Praline's bed, it came out as more like a yip.

She smiled at him, and the look cut through the fogginess in his head. "Of course not, silly."

"Hey wait," he said, overcoming whatever was getting to him. He was better than this. He knew not to take down his guard. She looked at him with curious eyes, and he steeled himself for the rejection. "You sure about this? You know."

"I've been thinking about it for a while," she admitted. 

"Yeah? … Why's that?" That was weird. He didn't know girls could think about that.

Praline was tracing something against his chest; he tried for a minute to figure out what it was before realizing he needed to pay attention to her face this time, not her hands. She looked thoughtful.

"When we were fighting together against that icky Wind Vestal and her crew, you tried to protect me but you didn't try to  _ protect _ me, you know? You weren't just a bodyguard, you were fighting alongside me! That hasn't happened since I first joined the Black Blades. I had forgotten what it was like… it was sort of nice."

"Huh?" 

"You know, silly. That you trusted me to watch your back just as much as you would watch mine."

"Oh yeah. Well, you're an Asterisk holder. They wouldn't have given it to you if they didn't think you could pull your own." 

She nodded, her blonde hair bouncing over her shoulders and trailing down to brush against his chest. "It was so thrilling! We almost won, too."

"Yeah, we did." But the Wind Vestal and her gang had cheated and somehow acquired the power of other Asterisk holders. He still wasn't sure how, but that didn't matter now, not when there were other things. 

"I thought that would be the end of it, but then I noticed you were coming to so many of my concerts, and it was honestly very touching, Mr. Jackal. You look tough, but you're really a softie, aren't you?"

Damnit, she had noticed? Some Thief he was. He flushed. "We gotta support one another, right?"

The smile she had on her face was knowing. "Mmhmm."  With that same smile on her face, she leaned down to kiss him again, their noses brushing together. Jackal kissed her back, much more sure of himself this time, even though he was naked, and she still wasn't.

When they parted, he narrowed his eyes. "Damn women. Always overdressed."

She smacked his chest. "Then do something about it."

Doing something about it meant tugging at the ties that kept the waistband closed tightly. Once it was free, the rest of the outfit began to come undone, opening up in the front to reveal her skin. He had no idea how she'd gotten her undergarment to stay up on her chest without straps, but it kept her relatively decent as the dress slid down her arms and torso until she could slip it off entirely, letting it fall off the edge of the bed to join his clothes.

Oh. It was adhesive. He watched her peel the little white slip off her chest, surprised enough by it that he barely registered her bare breasts. "Don't that hurt?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh, you get used to it," she explained. Then she drew her knees up to her chest somewhat self-consciously, sitting back. Though she still wore her panties, they were of a thin silk and small, hugging her hips tightly.

"Right," he replied, feeling a little embarrassed now. Wow. This was really happening. Moving closer to her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She turned and pressed her face against his chest.

Her fingers traced scars along his shoulders and chest. Life was hard, and thieves didn't have  healers on hand like others, and more than a few of his failures were broadcast for all to see, silvery-beige and criss-crossed on his arms and back. Unsurprisingly, her skin had no such defects. It was clear and scar-free - wait, he found one on her ribcage, a small pockmarked scar. 

When he asked about it, she giggled. "I got caught in some brambles when I was younger. One of them left a mark on me."

There was another scar on her upper thigh; this was one from a hot pan that she had been carrying for her mother and gotten too close to. He told her the stories of a few of his own scars; the one on his shoulder he'd gotten in his first fight, the one on his wrist from when he'd escaped his shackles, and the one on his leg that was shaped like a tree that he was particularly fond of even though he couldn't remember how he'd gotten it. Her lips caressed each scar as he pointed it out until they felt hot and tight. He was beginning to feel the same, his limbs heavy as he kissed a birthmark that was on her back that she hadn't known about it until now.

At some point, Praline turned off the lights of the room, plunging them into the darkness that was more familiar with him. His eyes quick to adjust to the dim light coming in from the stars through the window, he could still see her quite clearly, with her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail and her skin bare and clean. His hands hand trailed over her arms and legs as she straddled his hips, bracing herself against his chest.

The bed was soft and still cool somehow, a sharp contrast to the heat that he felt in his belly and the hardness of his erection. She had grasped him in those slender, soft hands of him and now she stroked him from root to tip. He couldn't swallow the gasp that broke from his chest. 

"Does it hurt?" she asked him, concerned. In the dark, she couldn't see the bliss on his face, he supposed. 

"Nah… no," he amended. "It's fine." It was fine. It was more than fine. He'd never felt so good in his life before, not even on his first successful heist.

When she lifted herself up on her knees, he supported her with a firm grip on her thighs. Then, she lowered herself, one hand between them to guide him into her. Jackal bit his lip so hard to keep from groaning that he wouldn't be surprised if he bled as her warmth enveloped him entirely. She was whimpering slightly as their hips met again and she settled on top of him, rolling slightly.

"Does it hurt?" he asked  _ her _ now, noticing the way she grimaced. He rubbed her thighs with his thumbs as he attempted to sit up.

Praline shook her head, waves of golden hair falling over her shoulders and arms and chest. "Not at all! It's just… new."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Me too."

It was new, but somehow it came natural to him, to roll his hips up against hers as they started to move together. He liked to think he was a quick learner when it came to things like this, matters of the body, as long as he didn't have to think or anything like that. But by now, he was learning what she liked. Praline was a girl, after all, so he had to be gentle with her, but she didn't need or want any coddling. He increased the tempo between them, spurred on by the nails that she dug into the shoulder and the small gasps that slipped from her lips. 

Kissing her so that he could feel those noises instead of just hearing them, his arms wrapped securely around her waist. She leaned against him, moaning out his name as her own hips met his, eager and quick. Her voice had power, and it fueled him now, giving him the strength that his heavy limbs needed to continue to thrust up into her, deliberate and deep, drawing out her cries of pleasure.

His own throat ached. It was that thirst again, something that water would never be able to quench.The heat he felt was nothing like the heat of the desert. It was sharp and sweet and wet, and spreading from the inside out, moving from his core to the tips of his toes. Breaking the kiss so that he could bury his face into her shoulder, he held her tightly as he surrendered to the tidal wave, letting pleasure and joy wash over him. His hips stilled as he went over the edge, his entire body going tense until the wave had crashed down and out of him.

Gasping, he loosened his grip on her, practically melting against her. Her cool hands were gentle, but urgent, against his face as she sang to him.

Singing… what? He could barely focus on the music, but the words wrapped around him regardless. He recognized this tune, sugary sweet but full of resolve; she'd used it on the battlefield. It was… 

Strength surged in him, breathing life into his tired limbs and exhausted brain. Blinking away the tiredness in his eyes, he kissed her again. "Are you using your Asterisk on me?" he asked, incredulous.

"One more for you," she whispered, winking.

Later, he was going to have to figure out creative uses for his own Asterisk. But for now, the strength that her music had given him was enough for him to keep moving against her, though this time he flipped them over so that he could push her into the soft covers of her bed. Her legs opened wide and wrapped around his hips, trapping him. It made his strokes somewhat shallow, but still strong, and he had to hold back his full strength as he drove into her. 

Praline arched into his touch; he kissed the curve of one of her bare breasts as he tried to bring her to the edge, let her experience what he'd just gone through. He watched her as she squirmed and writhed underneath him, her body meeting his again and again as they joined.

Her song had given him another wind, but even now the melodious words were turning incoherent as she climbed up to the pinnace herself. Soon, she stopped singing altogether, wordless moans mixing together as she hit her peak. She gasped, and he gasped with her as her entire body jerked. She convulsed around him, curling in on herself as waves crashed through her. Concerned, he held her tightly until she took in a shuddering breath, whispering his name.

That did him in again, and he came for the second time, groaning out her name in return and holding her tightly. His voice wasn't near as clear and lovely as hers, but she seemed to enjoy the sound of it, judging by the way she gasped. His orgasm was sweeter this time, and he pressed himself against as she caressed her fingers through his damp hair until his trembling stopped. 

For a long few moments, they were both still. Then, once he thought that he could get his shaking under control, he kissed her. She kissed him in return, squeezing his shoulders.

"Wow," he breathed, voice hoarse. "That was… wow."

"Mmhmm," she hummed.

Finally, they parted. He slipped out of her and cleaned himself up as best as he could with a towel that Praline found on the floor. She disappeared into the restroom, and he collapsed back onto the bed, breathing easy for the first time in like felt like hours. Outside, the rain had stopped, but the room was still muggy with musk and sweat. 

After a few minutes, she came back and offered him a small glass of water. Gratefully taking it from her, he drained the whole thing and set it aside on her nightstand as she lay back down beside him, cuddling against his chest. He wrapped one arm around her and squeezed as they got situated in the covers. Now that his thirst was truly satiated, he wanted to sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in a bed this nice.

Praline snuggled against him, her arm loose around his waist. "Are you going to stay the night?"

"Yeah," he said. "That okay?"

"Of course." There was a long pause before she added. "You can come by anytime that you'd like. Rain or shine. I'll give you a private performance again."

His own response was a soft noise; he was getting too tired to think about anything but taking a nap and resting with her. But the proposal wasn't an unwanted one. Yeah, he thought he'd take her up on it - come by anytime he'd like, all to her her sing just for him.

**Author's Note:**

> You can check out my Tumblr (hanatomame) for more information about this work.


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